The Coat
by CeliaEquus
Summary: Nick Fury doesn't give out his coat very often. Which should've clued Darcy in when he started lending it to her at the drop of a hat. (Or clothes, for that matter.) And one time she returned it... sort of. Disclaimer: I don't own the Avengers, or any other Marvel thingummies, nor am I making money from this.


"The Coat"

Cold

Darcy's teeth were chattering as she stomped the snow from her boots. Seriously, she was blaming the weatherman for this one. Of all the days he had to get his weather prediction right, it had to snow on her. A massive amount. If it wasn't bad enough that a broken awning dumped a pile of the white stuff on her head just as she was walking underneath, she had to slip and nearly fracture her ankle while she was at it.

That was when she decided, screw it, at least SHIELD would be open. And Thor had insisted she get all-hours access in case of emergency. Just because he and Jane were off on some tropical beach together didn't mean she wasn't invited. Right?

So here she was now, on the innocuous doormat just inside the door to the lobby. She swung her arms around, occasionally brushing off snow, and wondering who she had to kiss up to for a blanket and some hot chocolate.

"What brings you here, Lewis?"

"Shit," she muttered, and she smiled an 'Oh, crap' smile at Director Fury. "Hey. Uh, that would be the inclement weather. I'm not rugged up enough for this."

He rolled his only eye. "I can see that." He stalked forward, and if it wasn't for her throbbing ankle, Darcy would seriously consider backing up. But she held her ground, and watched as he removed his coat. He placed it around her shoulders. She blinked.

"It's not gonna explode on me, is it?" she asked. He gave her a withering look. (Didn't look much different from his other expressions, but she made it her business to learn people's body language.)

"We'll find you a hairdryer," he said. "Where are you going?"

"Home. I went to the movies, and the bakery near here wasn't all that far away, and I wanted muffins." She held up the paper bag which, against all odds, had remained dry and safe. "Want one?"

He hit one of the buttons in the elevator and entered the override code.

"Wardrobe will have something for you," he said. "I'll get someone to drive you home afterwards."

"No need for—"

"You've hurt your ankle. Nothing serious, unless you're good at masking your pain, which you're _not_. I'm sure Romanov and Barton would prefer that you're taken care of."

Darcy snuggled further into the coat, and smiled to herself.

Wet

The kid was okay. Darcy didn't even have to perform CPR, and the medics were tending to him. She hadn't thought twice when she saw the boy take a plunge into the river when he was trying to catch a ball. She'd thrown her bag down and her glasses off, then jumped into the water after him, relying on his bright red shirt to find him. It occurred to her that not being able to see all that well without her glasses didn't make her the best person to initiate a water-bound rescue.

"It was extra-stupid of you to pull a stunt like that," Jane berated her over the phone. Darcy was staring down at her glasses, mourning the cracked right lens. At least the frame and left lens were intact, otherwise she never could've made the call.

"If it's any consolation, my glasses are kind of broken and I'm all wet," she said.

"Not, it _doesn't_ console me, Darcy."

"Ahem."

She looked up at the man who'd cleared his throat: Nick Fury.

"Uh, gotta go," Darcy said, and quickly hung up. She pulled on her glasses and saw that she was right; the big blur was indeed the director of SHIELD. She gulped.

"Sir?" she said.

"That was the kid of a former agent," he said.

"…A good agent?"

"Yes, a very good friend."

"Oka-ay," she said. "You're here because it's personal?"

She squeezed some of the water out of her sweater. Fury sighed, removed his coat, and then placed it around her.

"This is getting to be a habit," he said.

"You're gettin' to be a habit with me," Darcy sang. He stared. "Never mind."

Shock

"You never learn about this at college," Darcy whispered. Thor stroked her hair as she gazed out at the dead bodies before her. She'd just exited the bank when she heard shouting. She'd turned to go back inside and find out what was going on when there was a huge explosion, and she'd been knocked backwards. She managed to roll like Natasha had taught her, to prevent major injury, and stumbled away when she realised that the explosion had blown out the windows, and people out of the windows. Apparently, if she'd been only a few yards closer, she could've suffered severe internal injuries. Ten yards closer, and she would've died.

Her first instinct was to call Jane, who sent Thor ahead to comfort her. He was a great shoulder to cry on, maybe even better than Jane. Darcy could still hear the screams, and her ears were still ringing.

"It has been a different kind of education," Thor said. His voice penetrated through the ringing. She screwed her eyes shut again and leaned into his side.

Time passed; she didn't know how long, but it couldn't have been more than five minutes. Thor gently straightened Darcy up, and got to his feet. Darcy noticed Fury standing in front of them. He removed his coat – definitely becoming a habit – and wrapped it around her again.

"Haven't even given you a damn blanket," he said.

"Don't bitch to me, sir," she said, probably too loudly. "There are other people who need more help than I do."

"Foster's nearly here," he said. "Come on. Lean on Thor."

When she stood, Darcy's knees buckled, and she clung on to Fury instead. She noticed Thor's half-smile, but didn't complain as SHIELD's director put an arm around her back.

Underwear

Someone coughed. Darcy closed her eyes tightly, breathed in and out, and slowly turned to meet Fury's disapproving look. She wasn't disappointed, and crossed her arms in front of her chest. Well, more _under_ her chest, which was apparently enough to distract him for a moment. She smiled despite the awkward situation.

"I can explain," she said. "It's… a bet. Gotten out of control."

"A bet?" he asked, stepping forward. She backed up against the wall.

"Well, not so much a bet as…"

"Being kicked out of the bedroom in only your underwear?"

"I wish," she muttered. "`Least I'd be getting some action." She refused to admit to anyone, least of all herself, the reason she wasn't going out and 'getting some action' on a regular basis. Especially since it had everything to do with the man in front of her.

"Then what was it?"

Darcy winced. "Truth or dare. A bet sounded more grown-up than a party game."

"Party games never stay innocent among SHIELD agents. I thought you'd realised it."

"Drink was involved."

"Ah." He did the honourable thing again, and gave her the coat. He helped her slip it on, and she turned around, the shots she had making her brave enough to ask.

"Truth or dare?" she asked. "I promise, nothing work-related."

"Okay, then," he said. "What're the options?"

"Well, the dare would be to kiss me," she said, feeling pretty brazen. His eyebrows shot up instantly.

"Truth," he said. Well, that stung.

"Why d'you give me your coat?" she asked.

He smiled. It seemed out of place on him. "I only give the coat to people I like."

"And… that includes me."

He snorted. "You're too drunk for this conversation. I'll take you home."

"My place or yours?"

Cover

"Only _you_ would walk into the middle of a SHIELD op," Clint groused, pushing Darcy under cover. "In bright clothes, Jesus Christ."

"You're supposed to wear bright clothes in the darkness, Barton. So cars will see you when you're crossing the street."

"Yeah, and to attract attention from unsavoury people. C'mon." He managed to lead her behind bins and cars, blocking her from sight the best he could. All the while he talked to various people over the radio, waving off any offers for her to stay put somewhere.

"Gotta get you out of here," Clint said. "Nowhere is safe, and Fury would have me hanged if you were hurt."

She grinned. "I doubt it."

Clint managed to shove her into someone's arms. Her hands met leather, and she looked up at Him.

"Uh…"

"You're like a magnet for trouble, aren't you?" Fury said.

"I'm just unlucky. Something that started ever since I met Jane, to be honest. Yeah. I blame her for everything… oh." She shivered as Fury slipped his coat up her arms and over her shoulders. He smoothed it down and fastened it at the front so that her colourful clothes were completely hidden.

"Wait in the van," he said. "We'll come get you when the op is finished."

"Okay," Darcy said.

Lingerie

"Agent Hill said that Fury isn't in his office," Steve argued.

"Which means that he _is_," Tony said.

"Why're you being so insistent?"

"Because I don't trust him. Duh."

"Maria doesn't have any reason to lie about it," Clint said.

"As far as you know," Tony replied.

"Look, if Clint says that she's telling the truth, then she's telling the truth," Steve said, and his cheeks reddened at Clint's bashful smile.

"Thanks, Cap," he said.

"Stop flirting," Tony said, and he pushed open the door to Fury's office. His chair was turned away, but black leather sleeves were poking out. He opened his mouth to crow, when the chair spun around.

"Hey, gorgeous," Darcy said, kicking her legs up onto the desk and crossing her ankles. Then her face fell. "You're not Director Fury."

"No, but I'm almost wishing I was," Tony said. Darcy was only wearing blood-red, lacy bra and underpants, matching heels, and Fury's infamous leather coat.

"Aren't you in a relationship?" Darcy asked, arching an eyebrow.

"I said _almost_ wishing. _Almost_. Pepper would have me neutered – or at least threaten it – if I _actually_ wished that I was… you know what? Never mind. I'm gonna go, because if I dwell on the idea of you and Fury… yeah, no."

"What's going on here?"

Tony, Clint, and Steve jumped out of the way. Clint held up his hands in an 'I surrender' motion, Steve smiled apologetically, and Tony grimaced.

"She thinks you're gorgeous," he said, pointing at Darcy.

"Just returning your coat," Darcy told Fury.

"Please tell me you wore something else to get here," he said.

"I could be wearing a lot less in a few minutes, if you get them out of here."

Fury only had to frown a bit more than usual, and the three present Avengers left the room damn quickly. The office door shut firmly, and a beep signalled that it was now locked. Tony looked at the others.

"I think we should come back later," he said. "Don't you?"

"Actually…" Steve turned to Clint. "Want to get a coffee with me?"

Clint beamed. "Hells yeah. See ya, Tony."

"Wait! I…" Then he heard the distinct sound of clothes hitting the floor, and decided that escaping was the better part of valour.

* * *

><p><strong>This is a fill for the kink meme – like so many other stories of mine lately – round 25, page 54. It asked for times Fury gave someone his coat, maybe a 5+1 fic. I ended up wanting to write DarcyFury, and made that the centre of the story. (With a side helping of Clint/Steve, because I love me some Amerihawk.) Farcy is a rare pair, and goodness knows I have a soft spot for rare pairings (and older men).**

**Please review!**


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